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A new oceanographic ice fades from underneath. they knew. Tunnels rut miles of eyeless organisms, carry of earth to pole. The ice looses empties itself. Crust crumbles
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revelation: glacial The ocean plumbs deeper than floor, caverned under water from belt its undersides, into iceberg-speckled sea.
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Once the glacier stiffed its lower lip, Now she slopes, achievements loose diamonds of watery energy inside. Once bound together a frozen mountain. Now, mutinied
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rugged a mother emptynested into the world or loose cannons, Ready to unleash by millennial ice, with her child soldiers the mountain threatens
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self-protective. having sent her Necklace shattered into sons with an excess at a split second the bergs girded forcibly to crash. |
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Author: Ivy Raff
Ivy Raff’s debut chapbook, Rooted and Reduced to Dust (Finishing Line Press, forthcoming 2024), was hailed by Jimmy Santiago Baca as “sensuous, glowing with an undercarriage of mystique.” Her poetry appears in The American Journal of Poetry, Nimrod International Journal, and West Trade Review, among numerous others, and is anthologized in Spectrum: Poetry Celebrating Identity. Currently nominated for the Best of the Net Anthology, Ivy’s work has garnered scholarship support from the Colgate Writers’ Conference as well as residencies with Atlantic Center for the Arts and Alaska State Parks. She lives and bakes artisan challah in Northern New Jersey.